.android hell is (not) a real place
To wake back up in this place in the midst of a celebration felt surreal. Simon had been wandering through the various events in something like a daze, trying to reconcile the dissonance of his anxiety with the celebratory air of Isola.
Naturally, Simon did what he had always done (at least before the accident); go out on the town. Or out on the boardwalk, to be more specific. Wearing sweatpants and a hoodie over his ductile suit, he paces past all the sideshow attractions and food stands until he hits the dock.
In the darkness there is no separation between sky and ocean and he stood, staring out in the direction of the horizon. The sound of water sloshing against the wood poles, the faint sounds of the waves going in and out poking chilly pinpricks down his spine. “Creepy,” he grumbles to no one before hurrying inside the cruise ship where, hopefully, he can get a drink without being seen.
Annnnd of course the nightclub is crowded but it’s inside and the only sign of the ocean beneath them is the slight sway which Simon acclimated to almost immediately. Standing in the middle of the main atrium, he peered suspiciously at the plants in the dim lighting, half expecting some sort of WAU monster to come barreling from around the corner. Instead there were just people and soft, jazzy music from a live performance on a little round stage as he ascended to the upper levels where large, glass plane windows showed the starry sky.
Yeah he was definitely under dressed.
Whatever. He strode up to the bar and ordered a Purple Haze with all the confidence of someone who belonged before leaning back on his elbows at the bar in search of a conversation partner. Last time he’d been to a bar he’d met Newt who had been a delight if his drunken memory was telling the truth.
@intelite
